


Wake Up and Remember

by NoOrdinarySouthernGirl



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Mystrade, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, My First Fanfic, Post Season 3, Temporary Amnesia, Tumblr Prompt, maybe eventual fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:25:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4431674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOrdinarySouthernGirl/pseuds/NoOrdinarySouthernGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tumblr prompt continued. </p><p>John is injured on a case and knocked out. When he wakes up, he doesn't remember the last year, his relationship with Sherlock... or that he was even still alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaimistoryteller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimistoryteller/gifts).



> This fic started as a tumblr prompt, but I decided to expand it. Now this is my first fic ever, so please be kind. 
> 
> Thank you jaimistoryteller for keeping me focused on actually finishing a story. Enjoy!

Following his divorce from Mary, John had, of course, moved back in with Sherlock. Upon his return, he had decided that after recent events he couldn't waste any more time just wondering. On a day when Sherlock just wouldn't stop talking, he decided to take action and kissed the taller man. An unspoken agreement between the two occurred that day and they no longer denied they were a couple in front of others. Just let them think what they wanted to. Mycroft and Greg were the only ones aware.

On a particularly difficult, and adventurous case, the two had chased their suspect into an abandoned building near the Thames. The structural integrity of the warehouse didn't deter them from entering. Mistake number one.

They followed the trail of their suspect up a flight of rickety stairs to a scaffolding bridge over the ground floor. Mistake number two.

Sherlock was so focused on this case that he didn't pay attention to his partner, thinking the ex-soldier would be alright on his own. Mistake number three.

“Sherlock, look out!” The man in question dropped to the base of the bridge within seconds of missing being hit by something. John did not.

Sitting up, Sherlock rushed back to John and gingerly touched his head, fingers coming back bloody. Footsteps could be heard rushing into the building below, DI Lestrade in the lead, shouting, “Sherlock? Where are you?”

Immediately turning to look over the ledge, the detective frantically called, “John needs an ambulance! Now!”

Confused, Greg motioned for one of his subordinates to make the call. “What happened? Did you get ‘em?” The DI was climbing the stairs up to the duo when he spotted John’s prone form. “Sherlock, answer me!”

Still holding John’s head, but having moved it to his lap, the younger man tried to answer calmly, “No, I did not ‘get him’. He threw something at us and it hit John. Now get me an ambulance!” Under his breath he whispered, “I can’t lose him.”

Greg pretended he hadn't heard him. He remembered that only he and Mycroft knew of what had developed between the two, and was glad that none of the other officers had followed him up the stairs.

At the DI’s insistence, Sherlock was allowed to ride in the ambulance with the injured doctor to the hospital. If Sherlock decided to sit beside his blogger and hold his hand the whole way to the emergency room, the paramedics dutifully ignored it.

Upon arrival, John was rushed through the doors while Sherlock had to be held back in the waiting room. When he saw more staff rushed to John's side on the other side of the doors, he no longer fought the nurses who told him that since he wasn't family, he couldn't go through. Greg soon joined him there, occasionally taking work calls and directing his team without leaving Sherlock's side.

Two hours later, Mycroft found them still waiting for news. Greg had called the politician sometime after showing up in the waiting room to make sure the doctor was able to get the best medical care possible. The sound of those horrible squeaky hospital shoes coming towards them had Sherlock looking up in apprehension.

Looking between the three men, the doctor asked, “Mr. Holmes?”

Gracefully, Mycroft stepped back as Sherlock practically sprang from his chair to get to the doctor, “Yes, how is he? Is he alright? Can I see him now? What took you so long?”

Neither Mycroft nor Greg tried to rein him in on his behavior.

“Mr. Watson will be alright. He should be waking up soon, but will be required to stay overnight for observation. I must warn you though, when he woke up briefly earlier, he may have been a bit confused so I want you to be cautious. Try not to upset him. You can go in when you’re ready.” With those final words, the doctor departed back to the nurses’ station to continue making his rounds.

The trio of men made their way through the heavy double doors and down to John’s room. As the other two continued on into the room, Sherlock remained standing in the doorway to watch the man in the hospital bed. He was stirring.

Groggily, John opened his eyes. “Greg? What happened? Where am I?” Of course he’d noticed Greg first, he was standing within his eye sight next to the bed.

“Whoa, careful there, John. You’re at St. Bart’s. How’re you feeling?” Greg helped him sit up a bit and retrieved the cup of water sitting next to his bed, turning the straw towards his friend.

Thanking Greg, John replied, “Hmm? ‘m fine. Or will be, I think. Long time no see by the way.”

At the look of genuine concern on the face of his friend, John tilted his head slightly, giving him a look of confusion. As the DI was about to respond, John’s eyes drifted over his shoulder when he saw movement behind the older man.

“Sherlock?” The detective could see myriad of emotions cross the face of the blond man. “Greg, what the bloody hell is going on?!" His John pushed himself up as much as he could in the bed, attempting to moved backward, away from him. "No! You’re dead! I _watched_ you fall. I felt your pulse. There wasn't one!”

Alarms started going off like mad and soon nurses were rushing in to usher the men out and attempt to calm their patient.

Back in the hallway, Sherlock had taken several steps backwards until he reached the opposite wall and proceeded to slide down into a squat against it. Head in hands.

“Mycroft?” Sherlock pleaded, “What is going on? Why doesn't he remember?”

Mycroft hadn't seen his brother look this small since they were young, and he was sure Lestrade had never seen the younger man openly show this much emotion before. Those around him had noticed that he’d spent the last year in a sort of bliss with John and The Work, but all it took was the possibility that the one man he loved may not remember him. Remember what they had. Or that he was even still alive.

Greg moved to sit beside him, shoulder to shoulder, “Well, the doctor _did_ say that he was a bit confused.”

Mycroft spoke to the lead nurse when they exited the room, John had been sedated and they would have to return tomorrow. With a look shared between the two older men, Greg pulled Sherlock up by the arm and direct him out of the hospital to the waiting black car. Sherlock would spend the night at their flat where they could keep an eye on him. Greg was unofficially living with Mycroft which would make this a bit easier.

Tonight would be a 'danger night' so they would have to keep a close eye on him. As Mycroft put his brother to bed in the spare room, Greg brought in a cup of tea in hopes of calming the young man and getting him to sleep. They would keep watch in shifts to make sure.

Tomorrow morning, the three of them would talk about how to work with this predicament and help the good doctor remember.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! I know it's short, but if I can I might be able to write a sequel, not promising anything though. I hope you enjoyed my first story :) Be kind :)

Sherlock woke to the smell of breakfast being cooked downstairs. He hadn’t realized that he’d fallen asleep, probably due to the tea Greg had given him. _Smart man._

On the chair next to the bed was a towel and a note in his brother’s neat handwriting.

_Fresh suit in the wardrobe. Have a shower and join us downstairs. We need to talk._

He assumed that would be as openly supportive of the situation that his brother would be. He grabbed the towel and made his way into the en suite. After a refreshing shower where, he had time to contemplate how the last year had developed. John divorced Mary after learning the baby wasn’t his, returned to 221B, and reduced his hours to part time at the clinic to be able to continue working with him. He had also kissed the detective. 9 months into their relationship, still only two other people knew: Mycroft and Greg.

With those two waiting downstairs, he shut off the water, dried off, and dressed in the suit his brother must have had his assistant bring from the flat he shared with John.

He stood in the doorway to the kitchen watching the two older men work around each other in perfect tandem. These two he could deduce, jobs, relationships, etc. This situation, not so much.  He was still too hurt to think too much into it.

Greg noticed him first and pointed to the bar where the start of breakfast is laid out. “Pick a spot. Tea or coffee?”

Taking advantage of the option of coffee, since John wasn’t a fan, he took a mug and prepared it to his liking. He sat in the seat at the end of the breakfast bar and added a few pieces to his plate. Even after all this time, he still didn’t eat much.

Greg sat next to him and Mycroft continued to stand on the other ride of the bar in an oddly domestic display. It seemed his brother really did act different at home and out of the public eye of those who could judge him.

When Sherlock has his face pointed towards his lap, Mycroft nods at Greg to begin. “How’re you takin’ all this?”

A dry bark of laugher released itself from Sherlock, “Do you really have to ask that question first thing this morning? I’m sure even _you_ can deduce the answer to that.”

“Sherlock, behave,” Mycroft chided him.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Sherlock tries again, “I’m… confused. What if the amnesia is permanent and he does not remember the last year? Forgetting Mary and that disaster, ok, but I am not sure if I could handle John forgetting that I am even alive. I do not want to hurt him again.”

Both men nod in understanding. Mycroft speaks next with their plan, “We will be going back to the hospital this morning after breakfast. Since John would be more receptive to Gregory here, he will go in first and explain a few things to the good doctor and prepare him for your arrival. If he responds well, then you may go in the room. Deal?”

Frustrated, the younger man agreed.

Mycroft’s phone pinged with a text message alerting him that the car was waiting out front of the flat to take them to the hospital. Grabbing their coats, the trio headed out.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Mycroft met with the nurses and was able to get clearance for all three of them to visit the patient providing that they don’t upset him.

Patting Sherlock’s shoulder and giving him a look of reassurance, the DI went into the room and shut the door with a soft click.

Directing his younger brother to the chairs situated outside of the John’s room, the two settled in for a bit of a wait. Try as he might, Sherlock couldn’t hear anything being said between the two men in the room behind him. He slumped down a bit in his chair, folded his hands into what John referred to as his “thinking position” and entered his Mind Palace. Making his way into the newly remodel John wing, he set about exploring, reliving memories he wished to use to help the blogger remember, and rearranging what he felt was most important.

Half an hour later, Greg poked his head out of the door calling for Mycroft to come in next. Unlike last time, the politician left the door cracked and Sherlock could hear their hushed tones. To keep himself from breaking down again, Sherlock counted the minutes and he looked up to see his brother standing at the door calling his name.

“Go ahead, Sherlock. Just be calm. He has a touch of amnesia, but you need to speak to him. Remind him of the last year in order to bring back those memories.” As much as they argued, Sherlock did love his brother and what he had done for him. He shook his brother’s hand before the he and the DI departed the room to wait outside.

Steadying himself, Sherlock pushed his way into the hospital room and sheepishly stood by the door until the man in the bed finally looked up from his lap and beckoned him in.

“John, I…”

“Sherlock, you…”

They spoke at the same time, both look up and share a small smile.

Chuckling, John spokes first, “So, you’re alive, huh? Didn’t see that coming.”

Nodding his head and appreciating John wasn’t going off the wall, again, he responded, “It would seem so. And when you are ready, we will return home…”

A little nervously, John asked, “To Baker Street, I hope?”

Finally Sherlock let a full blown smile show, he decided to dive straight in, “Of course. The other half of the bed would get cold without you. I am assuming that since you did not remember I was alive, that you do not remember we are in a monogamous relationship as well?” John nodded. “Thought as much. When you are released, you will come home with me and I am sure we can work things through until you have your full memory returned. We can even move your things back into your previous bedroom if you so prefer.”

At the distant look in John’s eyes after he finished speaking, “Something wrong?”

Nodding again, Sherlock looked a tad worried until John spoke again, “I thought you didn’t speak for days sometimes? You just said a hell of a lot for a man who claims not to.”

With an amused look in older man’s eyes, Sherlock could almost believe that things just might be ok.

 


End file.
